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am.”
    “Well, how old are you?”
    “How old do I look?”
    “About twenty-one, twenty-two.”
    “That’s close enough.”
    Johnny sighed. “Look. She said she knew Tom before he met my grandmother. That’s a long time ago. And now I’m getting the feeling that you knew him back then as well. But that’s impossible. You’d have to be in your forties at least.”
    “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jemi said.
    “I’m really not trying to pry,” Johnny said. “It’s just that I’d like to know what’s going on. Why would Tom tell me to play that tune in Vincent Massey Park? Why would your sister come when I played it?” He took out the bone fiddle and laid it on the table beside the teapot. “What’s this thing mean? What did she mean by saying she was a fairy?”
    “You’ve got so many questions,” Jemi said, “and it’s most unfair not to answer them.”
    She shook her head.
    “C’mon,” she said, and stood up.
    “Why? Where are we going?”
    “To Puxill.”
    Johnny remained seated. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what you and your sister are playing at, but I don’t like it. I think I’ll bow out now.”
    “I’m not playing at anything,” Jemi said.
    “Well, I don’t believe in fairies. I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re one, too?”
    Jemi laughed. “Of course not!”
    “Well, then, where are you planning to take me? Where’s Puxill? What’s Puxill?”
    “It’s what the— it’s what Jenna calls Vincent Massey Park.”
    “And what are we going to do there? Play ‘The King of the Fairies’ again?”
    Jemi shook her head. “No. We’re going to talk to Jenna. Now, c’mon.”
    Johnny stared at her for a long moment, then slowly got to his feet.
    “You’re not much of a one for whimsy and wonder, are you?” Jemi said.
    “It’s not been a good week.”
    Jemi touched his cheek with the backs of her fingers. The gesture reminded him of her sister.
    “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. Everybody liked him.”
    “How come I’ve never heard of all these everyones before?”
    “Maybe your grandfather just liked to keep a secret or two.”
    “He’s not alone in that,” Johnny said.
    “That’s true. Poor Johnny Faw. Did you never have a secret to keep?”
    “It’s not that. It’s just
    “
    He shook his head. He didn’t seem able to frame what he wanted to say.
    “It all came at a bad time, didn’t it?” Jemi said.
    Johnny nodded. “And I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”
    “Let’s find out what Jenna has to say.”
    They paid their bill and left the restaurant. Outside, the traffic was sparse on Bank Street. They followed the street down to Billings Bridge, weaving their way through the construction on the bridge as they crossed the river, then turned right to follow the water west. Here there was even less traffic on Riverside Drive, just the occasional car. They kept to the bicycle path, with the river and its reeds and its slow-moving water on one side, neatly-kept lawns on the other. Overhead, the sky was thick with stars.
    “Does she do this kind of thing often?” Johnny asked.
    Jemi shook her head. “But she likes tricks. I don’t think she meant you any harm. It’s hard to know sometimes— don’t you think? I mean the way things can go. You might mean one thing, but somebody might take it otherwise. She probably did just want to see you for old times’ sake, to see you and leave it at that. Instead, she just filled you up with questions. I don’t think she planned that. You were supposed to just forget about her.”
    “It’s hard to forget someone who comes at the call of a tune and then vanishes into thin air.”
    “It depends on what sort of a person you are.” Jemi glanced at him, a smile touching her lips. “And just how used to that sort of thing you are.”
    Johnny sighed, but didn’t rise to the bait. He was tired of questions, tired of puzzles, tired of not really knowing what